“Why, exactly, were you always trying to charm me?” I wondered. “Hoping to get rid of me? Lead me into a nest of assassins?”
“Hardly,” she breathed, “It doesn’t work on Father, either.” Lowering her voice, her eyes flicked across the room and landed on Cerys, who had joined Euthymia. “I was seeking allies. You remember how I was treated.”
“Allies are better formed genuinely, not through mind control.”
“What option did I have?” She set her jaw. “Father’s prophecy promises the world. And in his world, I would be just a pawn. To marry off, or murder. Whichever benefited him.”
“So? He already thinks of you that way.”
“Hedoes, butyoudon’t,” Eris said rigidly. “You would be averydifferent king.”
I lifted my chin, surprised. “Are you saying what I think you are?”
She glared at me—to eventhinksuch thoughts was treason deserving of the Duat.
Glancing down, I decided her words could be trusted. Eris had every reason to hate Haimyx. She’d spent weeks clinging to my heels, hoping to earn my favor. Now I knew why.
Placing a hand on my arm, she laid her head near my ear. “If the rumors are true, you have something Father wants. Something you won’t give him. What better time to turn against him?”
“Fighting Father is suicide,” I hissed.
“Is it?” Eris leaned back. “We could still be allies, Set. Think on it.”
“You wouldn’t risk so much for so little gain. I’m not stupid enough to fall for your honeyed words.”
Frustration flickered across her face. “What if he’s wrong?” She hissed. “What if he leads us to war and destruction?”
Those words seemed genuine. “Get off Mother’s throne, and we’ll talk.”
“Ha.” She smiled bitterly. “I finally havesomething, and you want to throw me off it? No, I have the power here, not you.”
Stepping back, I looked her up and down. Did a fragile woman hide beneath her confident exterior?
“Fighting me won’t help,” I said softly. “I’m your best chance at freedom and safety.”
“But would you protect me from Father, when I gave this city to you? When he sought my head in answer?”
I hesitated. Eris took the brief silence as my answer.
“Then, no,” she said. “I won’t yield.”
Sighing, I raised my voice for all to hear. “Fine. As Queen Ma’at’s true heir, I challenge you to the throne. Surrender your crown or meet me in single combat—to the death. Let the divines choose the inheritor.”
The room fell silent. Eris’ mouth twitched. Whether she smiled or held back a scowl, I couldn’t tell.
Bang. A door flew open amidst the hush, drawing our eyes to the north. Lord Icelus limped toward us, leaning heavily on his cane. “They did just as you expected, my lady.”
Eris turned to me. “That Elpis Maid is the crown piece in this chess game. It was not wise to put her in danger.”
I glanced behind me. Percy stood stiff, eyes darting around beneath his helm. Seraphim’s hand slid up her spear, letting her palm caress the blade.
“What are you waiting for?” Icelus demanded, stopping well out of my reach. He pointed across the room, toward Cerys. “Call for their arrest—The Oracle’s, too.”
Cerys looked up sharply. “And what have I done?”
“Your presence at the Duat was no coincidence—nor was the false description you fed Aeacus.”
“I told him only what the divines told me.”
